


Payment

by aunt_zelda



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Community: pacificrimkink, Condoms, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, M/M, Past Drug Use, Prostitution, Rough Sex, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Strangulation, Tattoos, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, he’ll play Wizard of Oz and give the kid a brain. (Clearly he’s short at least two.) But after that he’s gonna take him by that ratty little shoestring he probably thinks is a tie, hang him from the headboard, and fuck him inside-out, cross-eyed, and blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Payment

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt from the Kink Meme:  
> http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/2747.html?thread=4130491#t4130491  
>  _Sure, he’ll play Wizard of Oz and give the kid a brain. (Clearly he’s short at least two.) But after that he’s gonna take him by that ratty little shoestring he probably thinks is a tie, hang him from the headboard, and fuck him inside-out, cross-eyed, and blue._
> 
> Which was, in turn, inspired by something from tumblr: http://out-there-on-the-maroon.tumblr.com/post/63556154732/hobbitdragon-out-there-on-the-maroon#notes
> 
>  
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how to tag for this. It's consensual until the very end, then things go from consensual to potentially not. If anyone feels I should add more tags, please let me know and I will. My intent is, as always, to entertain, not to upset.

Hannibal is legitimately surprised when the kid returns, bloodied and shaking but still all in one piece, from the public shelter. 

He was kind of counting on the kid getting squished in the crowd, or eaten by the kaiju, or just generally getting out of Hannibal’s hair for the evening.

But he’s back. And he just called Hannibal Chau, king of the Kaiju Black Market, a “one-eyed bitch.”

Kid’s got moxie. 

(Or, as Hannibal’s mother would have said, “chutzpah.” And then she would have inquired about Geiszler’s background and probably tried to set them up on the grounds that no son of hers was going to live a single life, so what if they couldn’t get married in the synagogue, they could have a nice commitment ceremony and adopt her some grandkids already.)

Hannibal smiles ever so slightly, and waves to his bodyguards. They were already drawing their various guns, to deal with the insult Geiszler just threw at their boss. People don’t get to pull that kind of shit and live to brag about it.

But Geiszler isn’t most people. 

“Fine, that’s fair,” Hannibal claps a hand on Geiszler’s shoulder, smirks as the kid’s knees buckle. “Kid wants a brain … let’s give him a brain.” Then he ruffles Geiszler’s hair, just because he can. “Got plenty of courage, I can see that. You need a heart too?”

“I … uh …” Geiszler licks his lips, a tic apparently, judging from how chapped they are. “Can you get me back to Kansas, after this is over?”

Hannibal chuckles. “Yeah, sure thing kid.” A thought crosses his mind and, never one to deny himself, Hannibal voices it, “I’ll let you at this brain, but you’re gonna have to pay me back later.”

Geiszler blinks. “But, the Marshall said –”

“The Marshall’s the only reason I didn’t gut you and feed you to the skin louse. My agreement with the Marshall means I get exclusive rights to all Kaiju remains, and he gets supplies through my … less than legal trade routes. You want a brain, we gotta make a deal.”

“Ok, yeah, sure,” Geiszler bobs his head. “Whatever. Cool.”

Which is exactly the kind of flippant talk Hannibal was hoping for. 

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.” He holds out his hand and Geiszler shakes, looking confused and blushing a little around the edges. It takes all of Hannibal’s willpower not to just pick him up and carry him somewhere more private. That can wait for now, that brain is still warm.

Unfortunately, Hannibal gets swallowed before he can take Geiszler up on his end of the bargain.

Fortunately, that only deters him for a short time. Hannibal manages to cut himself out before too long. His clothes are ruined, but his good eye is still good, and his skin isn’t a mass of acid burns. And he might just be the only person in history to have survived being eaten by a Kaiju.

So, once he checks in with his people to make sure nobody got any bright ideas about taking over his empire while he was missing, presumed digested, Hannibal sends a message to the Shatterdome. 

It takes a while to get through, seeing as everyone is busy partying about the closing of the Breach and all. Hannibal busies himself with the final collections of what are, hopefully, the last Kaiju carcasses. He’s going to sell them off, slowly, over the next few years, and retire on a pile of cash. 

After a few days, Hannibal’s guards haul Geiszler into the backroom. The kid has heavy bags under his eyes, but his clothes are in better condition than the last time Hannibal saw him. He also appears to have taken a shower or two in the interim: his hair isn’t nearly as greasy. He’s also sporting a fresh tat just under his collar, bright blue and only half colored so far: Otachi’s tongue curling across his skin. It’s going to go up onto his throat, the way the design is started, and Hannibal can picture the end result. 

“Uh, hi …” Geiszler says, scrambling up from where the bodyguards dumped him on the floor. 

“Hey yourself,” Hannibal smirks, waving the guards away. 

“So … what’s this about?” Geiszler laughs nervously. He stops as Hannibal stalks towards him, putting up his hands in a pretty pathetic attempt to shield himself. “ _Ohgodpleasedon’tsliceoffmynose_!”

“Time to pay up,” Hannibal breathes, savoring Geiszler’s fear as he backs him up against the nearest wall. 

“P-p-pay?” Geiszler squeaks, actually _squeaks_ , and Hannibal swears he can hear the kid’s heart pounding in his chest.

“Yeah, pay. I let you have that brain, but it sure as hell wasn’t for free.”

“Uh, I … I saved the world?” Geiszler offers, staring up at Hannibal with huge eyes.

“Sure you did. Doesn’t clear your debt though.” Hannibal grabs the ratty string Geiszler probably thinks is a tie, and tugs, hard enough that Geiszler gasps. “You gonna jabber all night, or do you wanna get this done before you start incurring interest?” 

There’s a moment, as the realization dawns on Geiszler, where Hannibal forgets to breathe. Geiszler could protest, try to fight, realize he can’t possibly win in a fight and just refuse and hope Hannibal will let him go.

And Hannibal … would. As squirmy as Geiszler is, as pleasant as that feels, that would change if Geiszler said he didn’t want this. Hannibal might tease him a bit, but they’d work something else out. A consulting contract maybe, help with the last kaiju remains. 

“There’s other ways,” Hannibal whispers, one hand still toying with the tie. “If you’d prefer another method of payment.”

Geiszler licks his lips, clearly mulling it over. “… go for it, man.”

Hannibal raises his eyebrows, but one look from Geiszler is all he needs as confirmation. 

“I was hoping you’d say something like that,” Hannibal drags Geiszler by the tie like a leash, Geiszler practically jogging to keep up. 

It’s a quick journey to the rooms upstairs (mostly living quarters for his workers) and the bedroom Hannibal uses for himself. 

“You’re a goddamned idiot, Geiszler,” Hannibal growls, yanking Geiszler to the bed by the tie. He winds one end of the fabric around the headboard, tightening it just enough that Geiszler’s having trouble catching his breath. 

“Whoa … whoa …” Geiszler gasps, reaching up to his neck.

“Nah-ah-ah!” Hannibal pins Geiszler’s hands to the bed. “Don’t tell me you never jerked off with a belt around your neck?”

“… no, I haven’t.” Geiszler is a terrible liar. 

“When I play, I play rough.” Hannibal reaches with his free hand, feels at the bulge between Geiszler’s legs. “You like that too, huh?”

“… yeah.” Geiszler coughs. “What if I pass out?”

“Then I’ll untie you, make sure you’re still breathing, and keep going until I’m done with you.”

Geiszler’s eyes widen, but for once, he doesn’t seem to have anything to say. 

“Whoa … ok. Ok, yeah. I trust you.”

Hannibal laughs. “You _trust_ me >?”

“There’s easier ways to kill me. If you wanted me dead, I’d be dead.” Geiszler says, very matter-of-factly for someone tied to a headboard and sporting an obvious erection. 

Hannibal thinks that over. “… you got a point, Geiszler.”

“Less talky, more sexings!” Geiszler squirms.

“Never call it that again.” Hannibal pulls Geiszler’s pants off, and of course the kid goes commando, either because he ran out of clean laundry or he’s just that much of a freak. “What, you haven’t gotten ink on this yet?” Hannibal wraps his hand around Geiszler’s cock, gives it a bit of a stroke. 

“What? Noooooo …” Geiszler trails off into a moan.

“No piercings either. Maybe you’re not as wild as I thought you were.” Hannibal’s just taunting him now, Geiszler has covered himself in Kaiju tats, he’s a walking invitation for fights. Not getting anything on his dick doesn’t negate any of that. 

“Dude, I am _so_ wild! I’m a fucking rockstar!” Geiszler bucks his hips. “Jesus Christ … don’t stop … don’t stop, please …”

“Watch it, kid,” Hannibal gets to work on Geiszler’s shirt and jacket, tosses them onto the floor. “This isn’t about you getting off, this is about you paying me back.”

Geiszler whines, actually _whines_ , stares up at Hannibal with the biggest puppy eyes he can muster.

Hannibal jerks on the end of the tie. 

Geiszler splutters and his face turns red. “Ok, ok!” he whimpers, hands gripping the sheets tightly, clearly straining to keep from reaching up to the tie. 

“Good boy,” Hannibal murmurs. He admires Geiszler’s tattoos. Full chest and sleeves, the new one starting up his neck. Three or four different artists, though there’s been an obvious effort to make the art seem uniform. It’s good work. Hannibal is impressed. The kind of pain from multiple sittings for all this art would have been intense. 

Hannibal turns Geiszler over, smiles to see more ink, an expansive back piece stretching from his shoulders all the way down to his ass. It’s not just kaiju on his skin here, it’s Jaegers locked in combat with them. 

“Cherno Alpha … Striker Eureka … what’s this, Coyote Tango?”

“Yeah,” Geiszler has a stupid grin on his face as Hannibal runs his hands over the tattoos. “Big part of my life. I’m gonna get Gipsy on my left thigh in a couple weeks. Crimson Typhoon’s already on my other leg.” Geiszler wiggles his leg, and the three armed Jaeger twists. “Runnin’ outta room.” 

Hannibal huffs a laugh, and returns to the business at hand. “You’ve been with guys before, right?”

“Dude, you gotta ask me that?” Geiszler waggles his eyebrows.

Hannibal smacks him. Not hard, just enough to knock the smirk off his face. “Quit sassin’ me. Answer the question.”

“Yeah, I’ve been with guys.” Geiszler chews his lip. “You wanna hear about ’em?”

“Nah, just makin’ sure.” Hannibal grips Geiszler’s hips, sees his fingers beside the clawed feet of a kaiju he’s still raking in profits from. “I’m not gonna be gentle. Wouldn’t wish that on some tight-assed virgin.”

Geiszler arches up against Hannibal. Even though the fabric of his pants, Hannibal’s cock twitches in excitement. 

“You’re about twelve years too late for that. Go on, pound me. I bet you’re massive. I bet most people can’t take you.”

Hannibal chuckles as he slides out of his pants. Geiszler might talk too much, but for once, he knows exactly what to be saying. 

Geiszler raises his eyebrows when Hannibal pulls a condom out. 

“What?” Hannibal snorts. “You think I’d bareback with you, kid? In your dreams. I don’t know where you’ve been.” And Hannibal sure as hell knows where he himself has been. Waist deep in the best Hong Kong pussy money could buy for the past six years, to start with. And there were a lot of needles back in the early days, when he was a brash upstart, and nobody was exactly sober enough to keep track of whose were whose. Yeah, a condom is as much for his safety as it is for Geiszler’s. 

Hannibal pushes those thoughts from his head and grins as he watches Geiszler’s eying up his cock. Hannibal isn’t a small man by any means. He’s not “massive,” but he’s a challenge. 

“Why haven’t _you_ gotten ink on yours? Freaking trouser-kaiju.” Geiszler whistles.

Hannibal loosens the tie just enough so that Geiszler has a bit more room to maneuver. 

“Shut up,” Hannibal growls. He puts a hand in Geiszler’s hair and yanks, hard.

Geiszler’s lips are open before Hannibal stops talking. He swallows, and, after some minor spluttering, tries to deepthroat Hannibal.

“Christ,” Hannibal puts both hands in Geiszler’s hair. He’s gotta last, he can’t come now, some uppity kid isn’t going to make him come just from this and get out of the evening’s plans. 

After some truly blissful slurps, Hannibal taps Geiszler on the shoulder and pulls out. 

Geiszler, the cheeky bastard, licks his lips and beams. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t feel the need to pull on your tie during that,” Hannibal wishes he had, but Geiszler was so damn good, additional stimulation wasn’t required. 

“Wow, that wasn’t just a threat, huh?” Geiszler asks, lips red and utterly debauched. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Hannibal flips Geiszler over without much ceremony, grabs lube from the table beside the bed, and starts easing him open. “You talk to much; it’s too much goddamn fun to shut you up.”

Geiszler, clearly taking the words to heart, endeavors to stay silent as Hannibal fingers him. He lasts until approximately three fingers, at which point the dam collapses and he starts keening and babbling non-stop. 

Hannibal smirks, yanks Geiszler’s legs up, and starts to push in. 

“Oh god oh god oh _god_ ,” Geiszler slaps the mattress. 

Even after some decent stretching, Geiszler is tight. Hannibal pauses, waits a breath before continuing. 

“Come on come on come on! I can take it!” Geiszler squirms. 

“There you go again, talking,” Hannibal reaches up and pulls on the tie. Geiszler jerks, legs kicking out, and Hannibal sinks deeper. He shakes his head, “Like I said, too much goddamn fun to shut you up.”

The rhythm is shaky at best. Hannibal doesn’t want to come too quickly, and Geiszler keeps flailing around like a fish on a hook. He keeps trying to talk, too, and Hannibal loses track of the number of times he yanks on the tie to get Geiszler quiet.

Hannibal feels himself getting closer, and, deciding that this has gone on for long enough, speeds up, leaving bruises on Geiszler’s hips and accidentally slamming Geiszler’s face into the headboard a few times. 

He swears as he slides out of Geiszler, ties the condom and tosses it. Hannibal is sweaty and out of breath, and Geiszler, the freak, looks completely blissed out and ready for round two. 

Geiszler opens his mouth and Hannibal makes a snap decision. Lethargic in the afterglow though he may be, he’s got enough strength in his hands to pin Geiszler’s wrists to the bed with his left and pull on the tie with his right.

Geiszler panics, writhing underneath Hannibal and mouthing silently as his face starts to turn red. His eyes water, and Hannibal pushes his knee between Geiszler’s legs, lets Geiszler’s increasingly involuntary jerks bring his cock against Hannibal’s leg. 

“There you go … you’re so close …” Hannibal whispers. He’s not entirely sure Geiszler can hear him anymore, but the shudder of his body and the hot, sticky mess spilling out over Hannibal’s skin is enough. 

Hannibal lets go of the tie, pulls the knot free in one movement. Geiszler’s got a red mark around his throat, a harsh contrast to the bright blue of Otachi. He’s also unconscious, but he’s breathing normally. Which is good, because Hannibal wasn’t intending to kill the kid by any means. 

Geiszler comes to relatively quickly, blinking and reaching up towards his throat. 

“Leave it, kid.” Hannibal bats his hands away. “Should probably ice that tonight.”

“Whoa,” Geiszler croaks. “That was … whoa.”

“Good to know,” Hannibal is already buttoning up his shirt. He tosses Geiszler’s clothes up onto the bed. “Consider your debt cleared.”

Geiszler looks hurt. He quickly masks that with a forced smile, and starts getting dressed. 

Hannibal weighs the pros and cons of letting Geiszler think this was nothing against getting Geiszler in his bed again. 

“Could I, uh, have someone to get me back to the Shatterdome? Your people kinda snatched me off the street … I have no idea where I am.”

“Sure,” Hannibal ruffles Geiszler’s sweaty hair. Geiszler tries to shy away, and Hannibal tugs him closer. “Now, if you wanted to try some more stuff, no debts, no payments, maybe access to the last kaiju remains in the world … gimme a call,” Hannibal fishes a pen out of his jacket and scrawls a number on a spare bit of skin on Geiszler’s wrist. 

“Whuh … huh?” Geiszler splutters as Hannibal leads him to the door and shoves him out towards one of the drivers. 

“Shatterdome. Direct. No funny business.” Hannibal barks to the driver, who nods, and hauls Geiszler out via the hidden doorway. 

Hannibal leans against the wall and smiles to himself. Geiszler will call. Of course he’ll call. It’s just a question of when.


End file.
